Love is Blind
by Chesed
Summary: My entry for Ryoma's WAFF contest. Ever had a date who was the complete opposite of you...?


Tie? Check. Sports coat? Check. Deodorant? Check. Two years of hard work, consisting mostly of him staring at Misato then suddenly blurting out a request for a date one week before, were about to come to fruition. Everything had to go well.

Love is Blind

A story about truth, redemption, love, the subjectivity of realit… er nevermind…a rather "interesting" date

By Chesed 

In spite of his rather scrawny or as he preferred to think of it, slender, body, Makoto Hyuga was filled with an uncanny energy as he bounded up the stairs towards Misato's apartment. Maybe he was just still giddy from asking. He still didn't know why he did it, he just suddenly blurted it out as she was asking him about the recent upgrade to the MAGI. That must've been it, he always got a shot of courage after a computer update went well.

He quickly checked his watch. 7:00pm exactly, right on time. The Major would be able to appreciate that. He gave his outfit one last look. It was business-like and stylish without being too showy, perfect for the House Tokyo. He considered himself lucky for managing to get reservations on a Friday, even though he had made the call one week prior when he had first asked her out. Maybe it was a good sign… he hoped.

'Please let this go well. I'll do anything! I'll give up hentai manga… for a month,' Makoto thought, then took a deep breath, adjusted his glasses, and gave the door three sharp knocks. 

From within, he heard some shuffling, then he heard Misato shout, "Hello? Oh, Makoto, is that you? I'll be out in a few minutes!"

His heart leaped and he resisted the urge to chuckle. She was making a lot of fuss about this, oh well, women were like that. They took a lot of time to look their best when they were going out. That's what he had seen on TV and in the few shojo mangas in his collection. At least he hoped this was something she cared about, even if she didn't care as much as he did.

From within the apartment, he heard some shouting, followed by a higher pitched reply that sounded familiar. Oh, right, Shinji Ikari lived there. Sort of odd, but when you considered the boy's father and how much Misato seemed to care for him, it seemed a little less strange. For a moment, he felt a burst of envy at the boy, but managed to suppress it. It was childish to be jealous, that kid had it rough, and it was nice he had someone to look after him. Still… maybe it would be smart to listen in. Just to get to know her better, of course.

Slowly, he edged towards the door, as though worried she might hear him, then pressed his ear against it. 

"Arg! Damnit damnit damnit! I can't find anything!" Ahh… that was Misato. She seemed a little flustered.

"Sorry Misato!" That was definitely Shinji. Why was he apologizing though? Had he taken her clothes? The mental image made him blush a bright red, but he continued to listen.

"It's not your fault Shinji. Maybe you could help me out a bit though?" That was another embarrassing mental image… apparently it was for the boy as well because he heard him answer in a somewhat choked voice.

"Ummm… what do you need?"

"Have you seen any clean bras around?"

"Urp! Uh… no!"

"Oh, damn, Makoto's here too… hmmm… have you seen any clean panties lying around?"

"Ack! No!"

"Lets see then… Damn… Oh! I know! Asuka is at Hikari's, right?"

"Agggg!!! Oh God…" Shinji's voice carried a hint, well, rather a whole hell of a lot of panic.

"She is? Oh good, can't go commando if I want to wear this skirt!"

There was a strangled yelp then a thumping sound from the other side of the door. 

When Misato finally opened the door, all Makoto was able to manage was a strangled "Uh… hi." His grin seemed to be one of panic rather than happiness to see her, his face was dark crimson going on purple, and his trembling hand was wrapped in a death grip around the long stemmed rose he was trying to offer to her. On Makoto's part, just trying to remember to breathe was proving to be enough of a challenge. 

What he had just heard combined with the sudden appearance of Misato had caused an unnamed but all too common condition that mixed awkwardness, shock, and diverted blood flow in the worst possible way. 

'Do something!' his mind screamed at him in a desperate attempt to salvage the situation. He tried to make his grin less frightening and offered Misato the rose he had picked up earlier on a whim. She seemed to hesitate a moment before reaching out and taking it from his hand. The stem looked slightly squished.

"Ummm, hi Makoto. Are you okay?"

'WhatdoIsaywhatdoIsay!' His mind screamed at him. With the near genius IQ that landed him a job at the most elite military organizations in the world, an excuse was perfectly planned, crafted, and executed with a precision that would have impressed Gendo Ikari… or not.

"I'm fine, it's just a little hot outside," he managed to squeak. Misato regarded him for a moment as though trying to decide if he was joking, then gave a smile that tried to be warm but only came off as awkward.

"Oh, okay, it's a good thing I dressed light then. Say, why didn't you wear something a little lighter if you knew it was going to be warm out? Those clothes look kinda stuffy." She gave a small chuckle that completely failed to disarm the situation.

"Er… didn't think of it." Makoto glanced around, quietly wishing he could be alone for a moment to pound his head against a wall. Misato herself was wearing a white T-shirt and black skirt that left little to the imagination. A little tight, of course, the borrowed underwear she was wearing was probably even… urp. 'Don't think about that!' His mind berated him, but was rapidly silenced as the blood fled from it once again.

For several moments that could best be described as horribly awkward, Misato and Makoto stood face to face in the hall trying to look at anything but each other. Makoto himself studied the walls intently while he tried to think of any way to disarm the situation.

"That… sure is a nice… color… the wall I mean," He choked out. 'Damnit!'

"Ummm… yeah…" Misato gave him an odd look as though he had suddenly grown a second head. "Soooo… where're we going?"'

'Good question,' he thought miserably. She might feel uncomfortable in that clothing if they went to Tokyo House, and if he asked her to change he might seem controlling and he definitely didn't want that. He could still salvage the night, but it wouldn't do to come off as an asshole.

"Wherever you like I guess… umm… I'll pay?"

Misato seemed to brighten up a bit as this, and Makoto gave himself a mental pat on the back. She was a strong willed woman, of course she would prefer to decide where they went on the date. The important thing would be that she would have a good time, him deciding everything would just annoy her probably. Maybe all this had been a blessing in disguise.

"I know this great bar… ever heard of Yataa?"

Uh oh… Makoto didn't normally drink. Not because he had a moral objection to alcohol, but because it tended to have rather abrupt and dramatic results when it came into contact with him. Behind Misato, just barely visible through the door he caught sight of what looked like a half empty bottle of Sake on the counter. She enjoyed drinking? Damn it, she would think he was a wimp. Maybe he could make do, he had the guts to ask her out in the first place, might as well go with it.

"Sorry, no. I don't visit bars all that much." He mentally slapped himself for the last bit. Ugg… he didn't want to come off as un-cool or anything. She worked with him, though, so it was probably too late for that he mentally added.

"Hmmm… damn, oh well, it's a small place. Kinda tough to get there from here. Want me to drive?"

Makoto hesitated a moment. On one hand, he felt it was his duty to drive since he was, after all, taking her on this date. On the other, it would be awkward if he got lost, and maybe it would make a good impression if he let her drive. On a more selfish note, traffic had been hell on the way over, and it would be nice to relax while someone else drove. 

"Sure, that sounds good. Lets head on out, and thanks again for accepting."

Misato gave him a warm smile as she started walking. "Yeah, no problem."

"Yep, none at all," Makoto sighed to himself. Things were not going entirely as planned…

The only thing about his life that Makoto thought might be considered cool was his car. He had bought it from his brother when he had decided to move onto something flashier and faster. While Makoto was a computer nut, his brother was a car nut. The guy loved to mess with them, to make them faster, smoother rides, and more maneuverable. He also had been more than willing to give his brother Makoto a discounted price when he had sold him the machine. His brother said things about its engine, suspension, and a dozen other systems that confused Makoto. Makoto could say it was red and fast. He had watched his brother race it several times, though he would never dare to do that. Now he was watching it be raced again. Only this time it was being raced by Misato, and he was in it.

He pushed himself against his chair and braced for impact for the twentieth time that night as Misato charged a semi-truck head on in the turning lane. She seemed to be making a bid to pass a police car she had decided was too slow, but it was hard to tell from where he was sitting. Just in time she whipped the car back into a safer lane and let lose a whoop. Makoto sighed and rubbed his chest. He didn't think he was old enough to have a heart attack yet, but he felt like he might be there before the night was through. Oh well… Misato seemed to be having fun at least. She had a grin on her face that showed just how delighted or perhaps insane she was. It could be worse, she could've tried to pass some cars on the sidewalk… like she had earlier.

"Man, this is great! I didn't know you had this sorta car, otherwise I would've been the one to ask you out! Having fun yet?"

"Umm… yeah…" he groaned, pressing his cheek to the warm leather of the passenger side seat. Misato seemed oblivious to his discomfort.

"So, how long've you owned it?" Misato asked. She seemed to be in the best mood he had seen her in all night. This was in spite of the car that had just accommodated her rampage through the streets by pulling over… right into a dumpster.

"A year and a half, erp!" That van was close. "My brother sold it to me cheap! Aie!" That bus was closer.

Misato seemed oblivious to all the vehicles passing close by as she sped through traffic, and Hyuga began to pass the time trying to guess what thoughts were going on behind the strangely tranquil expression on her face. That is, when he wasn't completely terrified. He had a thing, well, a crush on her for a long time, and he had known her even longer, but tonight he was seeing a side he had never imagined would exist. She had struck him as daring, but her risks always seemed thought out and planned. Now she was barreling down the street as though she had a death wish, for no reason at all.

He was about to give voice to his objections when suddenly she glanced over her shoulder and spoke in an excited voice.

"Oh! There it is!"

Makoto grasped the dash board and prayed to as many gods as he could think of as Misato suddenly made her move. She effortlessly cut across two lanes of incoming traffic to parallel park tightly between two small cars in front of what looked like a rather empty corner pub. 

"Damnit! It's gonna be tough to get out of here… stupid drivers parked too close together. They should be more considerate."

Makoto was too busy trying to breathe to respond.

The operations director of NERV had carefully selected a table for them to sit at using the same brilliant strategic mind that put her at the forefront of every battle involving mankind's greatest weapons. Basically, she had pointed in a direction that looked good and said, "Lets go over there." Makoto had nodded in a daze, too happy to be alive to care where they ended up.

Unfortunately, Misato had decided that the best place in the cozy bar was also the table closest to the DJ, who seemed to think that quality was synonymous with volume. It made conversation interesting, if you take interesting to mean extremely difficult. Makoto had sat there for a moment, debating if he should even try to speak with the speakers blasting something that sounded vaguely American in his ears. It was disgusting music. From is all too rusty and tenuous knowledge of the English language, he was able to grasp that the main chorus said something along the lines of "Tell me what you want what you really, really want." The dark haired technician shuddered, feeling a sensation akin to the one he got when the angel alarms went off.

Though it wasn't really silence, it was awkward, and after a little while Makoto decided he should try to make conversation. It would be good to keep his date entertained he thought as he studied the other patrons around him. That and maybe he could get to know the woman who had kept his interest for so long a bit better, that's why he asked her out on this date in the first place.

'One of the reasons…' he amended.

"Hey, Misato!" He shouted across the table at her, really turning his attention to her for the first time since they had arrived. She seemed to be oblivious to him… in fact… oh God… she seemed to be dancing in place. She enjoyed this… abomination? While the sight of her hands swinging back and forth and her head bobbing up and down in time to the song was kinda sexy, this music went beyond horrible. Of course, how her chest responded to those motions almost made up for it, he thought with a blush as he tried as hard as he could to focus his attention on her face.

Suddenly she stopped and looked up, then said something. Makoto frowned and tapped his ear, then pointed at the speakers. Misato blinked a few times then nodded.

"What?" She shouted back at him at the top of her lungs.

He realized then that while he had decided to break the ice, he had no clue how to go about doing it. 

'Something simple,' he decided. 'Something that'll easily lead to a conversation… come on, think! Ah!'

Makoto smiled to himself a bit then shouted back at her, "Where are you from?"

The smile faded however as Misato first looked confused, then suddenly a scowl passed over her otherwise very pretty face. 

"What did you ask?" She said just loud enough for him to hear her. She sounded… Annoyed.

"Where are you from?"

"Why the hell are you asking that?"

"Ummm… I'm curious?"

"Uggg… You're worse than Kaji!"

"Huh?"

"That's not something you ask on a first date or any date for that matter!"

"What?" Makoto tried to retreat back against his chair. His expression become a mixture of confusion and fear as she raised her finger and began to shake it at him as she continued to lecture. Was where she was born really that sensitive of a topic? Even if it was, why couldn't she just tell him that?

"Are you some sort of pervert? That's not normal to ask! And for your information buster, the answer to your question is no, of course not!"

"No? I asked 'Where are you from? What are you saying 'no' for?" 

Misato's eyes narrowed even more and she leaned over the table until her face was directly in his. At one time he would have fantasized about being this close to Misato, but now that it was actually happening all he could feel was terror. 

"You don't like the answer 'no'? You got some sorta fetish with hair on a woman's rear end? That's just plain wrong!"

Makoto blinked, then he blinked again. Just to be thorough he blinked a third time. Finally, he completed this series of actions by blushing, though he didn't know why.

"What does hair on someone's ummm… posterior have to do with anything?" 

Misato looked suddenly confused, then angry again. In a slightly, or rather extremely annoyed tone of voice she said, "Well, you just asked 'Hair on your bum?' What else could you be referring to."

Makoto's face got redder, and he resisted the urge to let his head drop to the surface of the table in embarrassment. He simply sat there for a few moments before pointing at the speakers behind them with one hand, realizing the cause of the misunderstanding.

"I didn't ask _that_. I asked 'Where are you from?'" He groaned as loudly as he could.

Misato blinked a few times then leaned back in her own chair. She seemed embarrassed now as well, but Makoto failed to notice this as his forehead was currently resting on the surface of the table. If this had been one of his mangas, he probably would have just performed the mother of all face faults.

Finally, the song stopped. For a moment Makoto was relieved, then another came on… uggg… no wait, it was the same one again. Someone must've requested it. What sort of horrible, sadistic person would even think of doing that? Makoto simply sat there in his near comatose position before a hand wrapped around his shoulder and shook him. Someone said something, but he couldn't make it out, so he looked around dazedly until he found Misato's face a few inches away from his. At least she didn't look pissed this time.

"I said, 'lets dance!' I had to beg the DJ to get him to play this again!"

Dance? Makoto blanched as the words hit him. He didn't know how to dance nor did he want to, especially not to something that sounded like… this. No one else seemed to be dancing, and while Makoto had always been open with his feelings he also disliked being the center of attention. His date had already attracted a good deal of attention to herself both with her looks and her er… antics. His thoughts were cut short as she jerked him roughly to his feet and pulled him to the center of the room where a small space had been cleared out. He tried to follow her seemingly spontaneous motions with some more conservative and much more uncomfortable dancing of his own while trying to avoid the stares of the other patrons, but couldn't help but wince violently as the main chorus of the song boomed through the room.

"If you want to be my lover…"

Uggg…

No wonder there were so few people here…

The second Misato had said bar, he knew this moment would come. He had heard rumors of course. Occasionally Dr. Akagi would tease her a bit, and Maya had told a few stories and rumors that she had heard on days when the shifts were long and boring. Misato liked to drink, and now that it had begun Makoto was once again regretting not going to the House Tokyo, not because he had reservations and the food was better, but because as Misato went through one drink after another he realized that the bill there probably would have been cheaper. 

She had started out with a few screwdrivers, which quickly turned into a lot of screwdrivers, which was followed by several Black Russians, which was followed by whiskey, which was followed by… Makoto gave up and imagined himself banging his head on the table. It probably wouldn't be proper to do that. That and he had already knocked over her glass once with a particularly hard impact of his forehead. Misato had given him an annoyed look and asked what the hell he had been doing. He had blushed and replied killing some bug. It was not, perhaps, the best impression he had ever made on someone. 

Now she was sipping at some Sake and looking thoroughly trashed. It was impressive, really, after all she had drank he was amazed her kidneys hadn't fled her body in terror. Oh, wait, she was looking at him and saying something. He couldn't make it out over the Rickey Martin tune that was exploding over the speakers. No wonder Second Impact had occurred, God probably wanted to shut those morons up. He leaned forward over the table.

"C'mon 'koto, I'm not drinkin' alone here. You order shumthin'"

Makoto blinked… uh oh.

"Ummm… Misato, I have a lot of trouble with alcohol."

"Uh? Uh… sho you're shum kinda wimp?" Misato shouted in a badly slurred voice that mixed annoyance with genuine curiosity. It was the curiosity that offended him more. He would not make a bad impression!

"No! Of course not!" He shouted indignantly.

"Heehee… you shound jus' like Shinji." She leaned back in her chair and laughed some more for good measure, causing Makoto to blush in anger. 

'Damnit! No Choice,' he thought, then shouted at the top of his lungs. "Waiter! I want vodka, straight!"

He crossed his arms in front of him and glared forward at the table, steadying his breathing and trying to prepare himself as best as he could for what was to come. He could do this, it wouldn't be hard. Just a simple matter of doing a shot and then controlling his stomach until the alcohol was processed. Hell, maybe it could even relax him. Of course… a memory from a particular high school party assailed him.

_"Chug! Chug! Chug! Chug!" The shouting of the crowd assailed him as he lifted the beer bong to his lips. He had never done this before, hell, he had never even drunk before, but he wanted to make a good impression on his date. She was damn good looking, but he kept thinking she was out of his league. She had already gone once on this odd… contraption, and that meant he had to! He didn't know why, but he had to!_

His thoughts were cut short as the beer began flowing. With more than just a small bit of apprehension, he began to suck on it. The golden liquid poured into his mouth and… UGGG!

The flavor was horrible, but it kept coming! Pull away! Pull away! The liquid began spraying all over his face and shirt, people were looking at him! They had expressions of shock, ones that came just before they laughed their asses off! He was looking like an idiot! Drink! Drink! He stuck the hose back in his mouth. Oh God, the taste! Wait, no, no this wasn't happening. His stomach was agreeing with his mouth and was complaining even more loudly. He threw the hose to the ground and clamped his hands over his mouth, yet the inevitable was happening. His mouth didn't have enough room to hold all the snacks from earlier, not to mention the dinner he and his date had eaten before the party. His hands did nothing to block the vomit, instead, they pressurized it. He didn't throw up, he exploded.

For a moment, there was silence as he stood there in a puddle of beer from the bong, like a pool of blood, then he heard a shrill scream as his thoroughly covered date ran away.

He shook his head. No, damnit! It wasn't going to happen again. He was going to win Misato's heart! He was going to impress her! He glanced down at the sizable collection of shot glasses in front of her. Well, maybe not impress, but at least make a good impression.

The waiter casually put the vodka down in front of him and he nodded a thanks, though he certainly didn't feel grateful. For a moment he eyed the clear liquid, like a gun fighter preparing for a duel. Misato was watching them too. In a moment, him and alcohol would do battle once again. The winner would get the girl. Well, judging from Misato's drinking, alcohol already had the girl, but maybe he could win a place in her heart too. He picked up the shot glass, swung it to his lips, and downed it in one swallow. There was a brief, unpleasant taste, then he felt a trail of fire go to his stomach, but nothing more than that. He leaned back in his chair and relaxed. No problem, none at all…

…

Urp…

Uh oh…

He could still feel it, worse, he could feel his stomach starting to complain.

Well… complain wasn't exactly the right word. Bitch up a storm that would've impressed Asuka Langely Soryu was a better one.

By the time his hastily thrown aside chair hit the floor, he was already halfway to the bathrooms.

He charged towards them, leaping over chair and table, and only succeeding in agitating his stomach further. He ran at the men's room, no time left, only to be greeted with… an out of order sign and a locked door. Makoto looked at the door to the women's room with panic filled eyes. There was nothing to do but hope he got lucky. He went through it.

A sober person would have been embarrassed. A sober person would have felt bad for her date. Misato was not sober. So when from the bathroom door there came the sound of a shrill scream, a slap, and finally it opening as a very flustered and somewhat vomit covered woman came running out, Misato laughed her ass off.

'At least she was too busy running to press charges,' Makoto thought drearily to himself as he and Misato made their way back to the car. The bill had been high. Even though he had figured he would spend a lot, the bill from the bar would probably force him to readjust his budget for the month. On a brighter note, he did have his arm around Misato. On a less than bright note, it was not because he was being romantic, it was because she probably wouldn't do so well under her own power.

"Mmm… hey, 'koto… les take a walk or sumthin'," Misato slurred in his general direction, startling him from his thoughts.

"Oh, alright." Makoto glanced one last time at his car to make sure it was still intact. Considering how things had been going so far that night, he was pleasantly surprised to see it was. The couple started walking along the sidewalk. 

Occasionally Misato would pause and peer into the illuminated window of a shop closed for the night, and once they had to make a "stop" in the alley for Misato. But for the most part, they simply walked, and Makoto found himself simply enjoying the date for the first time that night. Misato's weight, more than he had expected from looking at her but far less than he could handle, was pressed comfortably against him. His arm was around her waist and hers was around his shoulders, and the warmth was more than pleasant. It wasn't sexual, though in his fantasies it might've been as such, instead it was simply good, the way things should be.

However, like all things, the pleasant silence between the two came to an end when Misato spoke up in a softer voice than Makoto had heard all evening. It was still slightly slurred, but Makoto could hear how hard she was trying to make the words coherent.

"Makoto? I was just thinking. You haven't enjoyed yourself much tonight, have you?"

Makoto Hyuga glanced over at his date. Her strange, yet beautiful lavender hair framed a face that seemed both all too young with immaturity and all too old with loss at the same time. Though he had never thought of himself as good at reading people, he often thought she seemed happy and sad at the same time. Tonight had been like that. She seemed to be in a completely carefree mood, yet the amount she drank went beyond sociable. A slight scowl crossed her brow at the continued silence, and Makoto cleared his throat then answered, trying to match her voice as closely as possible.

"No, I've enjoyed myself a… erm… lot." He mentally slapped his forehead at the sound of indecision in his voice. 

"Don' act like I'm stupid. I can tell," Misato grumbled, then looked away.

"Well… maybe not all of it…" Makoto sighed.

"Most of it," she accused back at him, pointing one slightly wavering finger at his face.

"Alright, most of it," he replied sharply, then blushed at the harshness in his voice as she frowned. "But I have enjoyed some parts of it. Like walking with you, and that you had a good time." 

'Hopefully,' he added mentally.

"Yeah, this is pretty nice… but maybe it's time we did something you'd enjoy for a change, you know? What would you like to do?" Misato looked back at him inquisitively.

People often react in different ways to the same thing depending on the same situation. If he had been joking with Shigeru and had been asked what he would do in this situation, he probably would have replied with a wink and a lewd comment. If he had fantasized about what he would do in this situation, he probably would've imagined sweeping her off her feet and pulling her into a deep kiss. When the reality of the situation came, however, the answer was simple. He had wanted to go on this date to get to know her better, so…

"I guess… to just sit down and talk, maybe?"

Misato nodded slightly then inclined her head towards a bench that sat along side the street, bathed in light from a streetlamp. The pair sat down.

"So, what do you want to talk about?"

'How do I phrase this,' he thought to himself.

"Well… you know… I really don't know you all that well outside of work, even though we've both worked at NERV for two years now? Maybe you could just tell me about yourself?" 

Misato looked confused for a moment. "That's a lotta ground to cover," she chuckled for a moment then held her head as though dizzy. "Ummm… I drink too much… I think… yeah."

"Erm… I noticed." Makoto grinned weakly. "Hmmm… well, why do you like the Spice Girls so much?"

Misato blinked, then laughed and held her stomach. "I must've seemed like an idiot back there. You certainly did enjoy watching me 'dance', now didn't you?" She winked at him, earning a blush, then she leaned back against the bench as though thinking. 

"I guess it reminds me of how things were before Second Impact," Misato said softly, staring up at the rose colored sky. "I was such an idiot back then, but I was still just content to be happy, you know? Things're so much different now."

Makoto nodded slightly. "It's a way to reclaim your childhood for a bit?"

"Yep, back before I tried to figure things out," Misato chuckled. "Or cared enough to. We all have ways of doing that."

"Like me and my manga." Makoto smiled.

"Or Shinji and his SDAT." Misato frowned when Makoto just looked confused. "Nevermind, I forgot you don't really deal with him outside of work."

For a little while, there was simply silence as the two regarded everything but each other. They had grown comfortable enough to sit reasonably close together, but anything more than that would've just been awkward. However, when Makoto looked back at Misato, he saw something completely unexpected. Instead of the thoughtfulness she had displayed earlier, in her deep brown eyes he saw a deep sadness as she stared forward at the sidewalk. For a moment, he considered putting an arm around her shoulders, to comfort her but… no… it was okay earlier when he was helping her along, but now it just would've been inappropriate. Suddenly, she turned her head towards him and caught his eye, causing him to freeze. He expected her to fall into his arms, he expected her to get up and leave him there, he expected her to simply turn away again. What happened was not what he expected.

"I'm… sorry. I've been using you, it's not right, I'm so sorry," Misato murmured as she turned her head away and stared down at the sidewalk. "I'll pay you back for everything… I really wish… no, I wish there was something I could do to make this up to you?"

Makoto froze completely for a moment. She didn't want to go out with him? What was this? Why was she unhappy? While all three questions caused pangs in his heart, the last distressed him the most to his surprise, so he acted upon it.

"What? No… Misato… I've wanted to take you out forever." Makoto blinked, surprised at his own honestly. In a way, it reminded him of how he had acted during the 17th. Maybe he could act that way again now. "Even if you did use me, I got something out of it too."

Misato smiled a bit, weakly. "No, you don't understand. I mean, I enjoyed tonight… but… I didn't go out with you because I was interested in you… no… sorry, I'm too drunk. I shouldn't be saying such things." Makoto's hand clenched on his pants and he looked away.

"Well… why then?" He said quietly, just a hint of anger and sadness in his voice.

"I guess I wanted to put some things behind me. After Kaji died I never went out. I stopped doing anything but working and trying to find out what NERV was up to. I'm sorry again for using you to hack and all that, I was too stupid and obsessed to care about putting you into danger." 

"We already talked about it, I found out some things that were important to me, too. We worked together, remember?" 

"Yeah… but after the 17th and the battle with the JSSDF and the Eva series afterwards, I had nothing. Kaji's ghost was always there."

"So… you thought going on a date with me would… be like going on a date with Kaji?"

"Yes… I guess… maybe it would be a way to relive some of the best moments of my life. I was happy for a little while, I really was. Being in love with him was like a typhoon. I was simply caught up in it and thrown around, helpless to do anything. But it was nice, too…" Misato smiled weakly, staring off absently at the street with her dark eyes while her fingers drummed on her knee.

"We used to be wild. We'd go drinking, go dancing, just… live. It was like living in a dream where anything could happen."

Makoto nodded slightly. "I wish I could say I understand, but I've never really dated anyone before. It was just never that important to me."

"Well… when you're in love and all that, it's wonderful. I wanted to relive just a bit of that. That's why I drank so much, why we danced to stupid music… all that. Even though I want to get rid of Kaji's ghost, I guess I still can't bear to let go."

Makoto nodded slightly, then sighed to himself. 'Even though he's dead I still can't compete with him. Well, congratulations to him, he still has her heart.'

"But… no matter how hard I tried, it still wasn't like going out with Kaji. Because I wasn't going out with Kaji, I was going out with you."

Makoto nodded slightly, still studying the asphalt of the sidewalk. He didn't want to face her, rejection always hurt. While he hadn't dated before, he was familiar enough with that.

"You're not charming, or witty, or roughly handsome like Kaji. You can't sweep me off my feet like he did. Even this reminds me of one time when me and Kaji were walking home from a bar. I poured myself out to him about what I thought I was like, how terrible I felt about myself, and he told me… well… he told me I wasn't that way, and he kissed me… he made me feel better."

'And I can't…' Makoto thought to himself as he nodded slightly.

"But the hole in my heart was still there… because no matter how high he swept me off my feet, I could never get beyond my own doubts and fears with him. Near the end, things changed and I felt better… but that was so short I wonder sometimes if it was just my own imagination." 

Makoto blinked as he felt a soft hand wrap around his shoulder, and Misato's hair brush the back of his neck as she leaned close.

"You're not like Kaji… but… that's alright, simply because… I don't know how to say this. For everything you aren't, there're things you are. Instead of trying to make me feel better, you listened even though it hurt you. Tonight you did what I wanted to do, Kaji had a way of charming me into doing what he felt like. You didn't try to put on a mask or deceive me, you were simply yourself. Sometimes it was hard for me to tell who Kaji really was, like he was afraid to show any vulnerability. But most importantly, you live for yourself, and you live for others, but most of all you really try to live."

Makoto stared straight ahead as Misato whispered in his ear. He could feel the unexpected happening again as her warm breath caressed his cheek, but this time he didn't mind.

"Sometimes I don't know if he died for me, for himself, for the truth, or the past. Maybe something else entirely. All I know is that it still hurts me, because he shouldn't have. He could've lived, he could've stayed, things could've been better! But he had to keep pushing… to the truth until it… killed him," Misato said slowly, her voice breaking up near the end. There was a brief pause where the only sound was her breathing as she tried to collect herself. When she spoke again, it was filled with determination. "But once, he told me to move forward, and maybe it's time I do that once again. I don't know you too well, Makoto. I know you've had a crush on me for a long time, but I think it was more than that which made you help me find out about NERV and finally ask me out. It's loyalty, isn't it?"

Misato's hand squeezed his shoulder, gently.

"You can be loyal to someone. You can care enough about something to live for it, not just to die for it. I think, maybe, I'd like to go out with you again. Really go out with you, and not just a few faded memories."

Makoto could only nod slightly, then smile as a soft pair of lips brushed his cheek for a moment. It wasn't the romantic evening he had planned, and he hadn't swept Misato off her feet, but… it was enough.

He had driven the two back to the apartment, which was probably for the best since if she drove like _that _when she was sober, he could only shudder when trying to imagine what she was like drunk. Now the two stood outside the apartment, trying to break the awkward silence that always comes when neither really wants to leave but knows they must. Makoto was trying to decide if he should say he had fun tonight or if he should kiss her, when suddenly he noticed a very mischievous gleam in his date's eyes. He froze, his nervousness at fulfilling his duties as the man only increasing as he wondered what a very drunk Misato might do. Would she drag him into the apartment ripping off his clothes as…

She leaned forward and gave him a light peck on the cheek, then laughed a bit and smiled. His fear suddenly disappeared as he returned her warm smile.

"Night 'koto… oh wait, turn around. Heheheh." Something about her giggle made him very nervous again. However, he did manage to turn his back to her.

There was the sound of rustling cloth, then suddenly he felt a smaller, warmer hand take his own and press some piece of fabric into it. At the sound of the door opening, he turned around just in time to see Misato's grinning face. As the door closed he looked down in his hand and… froze up completely.

_He was holding some panties._

_Red panties._

The sound of the elevator door opening came from somewhere down the hall.

_Small, red panties. They didn't look like Misato's size._

The sound of footsteps, getting closer.

_Misato was still very drunk when they arrived at the apartment. She might've forgotten something._

The footsteps sounded like they were in the same hall as him now.

Like how she borrowed someone else's underwear.

The footsteps were just behind him now.

_Oh dear God…_

The footsteps stopped.

"YOU GODDAMN PERVERT! WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING WITH MY PANTIES?"

__

The End

Author's Notes: As usual, I don't have a whole lot to say. I'd like to thank all the people that helped me with this (Joedoebell, Tchernobyl, and WeltallElite), all the people that voted for it, and my roommate who didn't show up this year, leaving me all the time in the world to write in my pajamas and bathrobe.

Writing a humor/romance was ummm… weird for me. Still, hope you enjoyed it.


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